


Talk Swedish to Me

by Blacklace



Series: Mornings and Coffees [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Language Kink, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Swedish, sex tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 06:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacklace/pseuds/Blacklace
Summary: Not that Mikko actually hates the Swedish language. Problem might be he likes it a little too much. Like I’m-gonna-pop-a-boner-if-you-speak-it too much.Can be read as a stand-alone.





	Talk Swedish to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knoxoursavior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/gifts).



> You know the drill guys.
> 
> This story is not beta'd, so there are mistakes for which I'm very sorry. Also I suck at writing porn, so there's that.  
> My Swedish is not the best, so if you happen to notice mistakes or nonsenses, please tell me so I can correct it (seriously tho, I wouldn't mind).
> 
> This story is for one awesome [Lauren](https://pavszacha.tumblr.com/) , just because. She inspires me quite a lot to write about Gabe and Mikko, for which I'm endlessly thankful <3
> 
> Also, if you've never heard Gabe speak Swedish, you need to do asap [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iR5e_f_jmKk) or [here](http://www.aftonbladet.se/sportbladet/hockey/landslag/worldcup/article23427543.ab).
> 
> NOTE: This is a work of fiction and it does not reflect real world in any sort.

As it turns out morning sunlight is a traitor.

One, it woke Mikko up. Two, it made Gabriel Landeskog look like a fucking angel in disguise.

Mikko doesn’t remember much after the last night’s celebration. He recalls challenging Dutchy at drowning their sorrow and then everything is kind of blurry at the edges.

He doesn’t know where his wallet or clothes are, but at least he’s sure of one thing. He just woke up in Gabe’s bedroom with the said man long gone and singing in the kitchen, preferably making them his famous hungover-curing breakfast. Mikko gets out of bed to find some boxers in Gabe’s enormous walk-in closet and join him in the kitchen.

“You’re awake?” Gabe gives him one of those thousand-watt smiles and pours milk into a mug of steaming coffee.

It’s beyond Mikko how can someone be so cheerful after a night of a drinking death wish.

“What are you making?” he asks instead and sits on a barstool. The kitchen island looks like a battlefield and Mikko has hard time deciding whether it’s from Gabe’s cute cooking attempts or from the wild sex they had when they returned home from the bar.

There’s more mixing and stumbling, but when Gabe finally turns back to Mikko, his eyes are filled with mirth. “Äggröra min älskling,” Gabe smiles sweetly. “Want some coffee with them?”

“Stop calling me your darling,” Mikko cringes. He had to do something terrible last night to have Gabe cooing at him in Swedish. He rarely does that since he knows Mikko isn’t a big fan of Swedish. He keeps saying he hates Swedish mostly so he doesn’t have to deal with either Gabe or Soda talking Swedish around him.

Not that Mikko actually _hates_ the language. Problem might be he _likes_ it a little too much. Like I’m-gonna-pop-a-boner-if-you-speak-Swedish much.

He has never really paid attention to other languages before. Never really had a reason to, anyway. Until he was drafted by Colorado and often lingered behind to hear other guys do their media scrums. He kept telling himself it was to gain some experience up until that one unfortunate moment when a Swedish reporter from Aftonbladet showed up. He slipped into comfortable Swedish with Gabe and Mikko knew he was fucked the moment Gabe uttered his first sentence and started to giggle.

The deep melody of his voice was even more pronounced in Swedish, the soft sounds he was somehow able to make with his mouth drove Mikko crazy. He had told himself he was just tired from the game and closed his eyes while resting his head on the stall. He listened some more and he felt like he was drowning. Gabe’s voice washed over him in warm waves and before Mikko could realize what was happening with his body, he had a hard-on in a locker room full of his teammates.

He ran away and swore to never tell anyone. Especially not Gabe, because if Gabe knew he’d make Mikko’s life a living hell. Always slipping into Swedish and murmuring right next to his ear. He could picture the pretended innocence in Gabe’s eyes while he’d basically seduce Mikko with his Swedish and yeah, no, Mikko definitely doesn’t need that in his life.

Which kinda brings him back to the present moment.

He and Gabe occasionally slept together, ever since that drunken hookup from a year ago that set things in motion. They were good together. No labels, no rules and more importantly no leverages. Even if Mikko fully trusted Gabe he didn’t want him to know just how much it turned him on when he spoke his mother tongue. There was a line that should never be crossed because it’d cost Mikko his dignity in front of Gabe.

Mikko fidgets on the bar stool. “So what’s for breakfast again?” he asks.

“Ursäkta,” Gabe murmurs with the most innocent expression that’s not innocent at all. Mikko squints at him, tries to figure out what’s the play here, but when Gabe drops a full plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, he drops it.

He digs in happily, uttering a quiet thank you between bites.

Gabe just laughs and sits down next to him. “Smakar det bra, älskling?” _does it taste good, darling?_ Mikko chokes on the eggs and goes all red. Gabe has to actually punch his back so he doesn’t suffocate.

“Fuck you!” he manages between coughs.

Gabe beams at him like the asshole he is. “Ah, ursäkta, I forgot.” He pushes the plate closer to Mikko who tries to Glare at him, but screw this, he’s hungry and fucking hungover.

Gabe keeps his hand low on Mikko’s back and strokes the naked skin there. It’s a really nice and comforting gesture that lulls Mikko into a false sense of safety.

Gabe takes his plate when he’s done and puts it in the dishwasher. “I brought something sweet from the bakery, if you’d like?” he shows Mikko the deliciously looking piece of chocolate cake and Mikko whines.

“It’s not in my meal plan,” he pouts.

Gabe takes his empty mug and refills it with steaming coffee. “I’ll take it then… you can have a little taste,” he winks and puts the cake on a nice Ikea plate. Mikko wonders briefly just how many things in this apartment are from Ikea for Gabe’s own comfort.

True to his words, Gabe feeds him a few forkfuls and Mikko moans around each one of them. Because come on, the cake is actually delicious. “Vill du ha en bit till?” _Do you want another bite_ , Gabe asks after each bite, his voice soft and low and Mikko just moans along, nodding to whatever question Gabe asks.

“That’s it,” Gabe rubs his back, his hand traveling all the way up to his neck where it squeezes and then it runs into his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp. Mikko’s eyes roll back into his skull. His head feels like it’s swimming. “Du är så duktig för mig,” _You are so good for me,_ Gabe whispers into his ear, makes sure to mouth at the sensitive spot just beneath.

Mikko whimpers and slumps into Gabe’s chest, into the comforting wall of heat and familiar scent of cinnamon and musk. Gabe catches him easily with a chuckle. “You love it, don’t you?” he brushes away the hair from Mikko’s forehead. “You love it when I speak Swedish,” he squeezes his thigh and drags his hand up to the seam of his crotch. It makes Mikko mewl, a sound at the back of his throat that sounds almost like a whine.

“Please.”

Gabe gently wraps his arms around Mikko and steers him back to the bedroom where he lays him down on the unmade sheets. Mikko’s eyes are drowsy, the deep-rooted arousal settles in his bones and makes everything around him languid, slow, and dripping like honey. Everything is fuzzy and soft and all Mikko can concentrate on is Gabe. Gabe and his big hands, his deep voice and warm lips that travel up and down his bare chest.

“Så fin,” _so pretty,_ Gabe’s breath ghosts over his neck, followed by a sweet, open-mouthed kiss just over his pulse point. Mikko shudders and spreads his legs wider under Gabe. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Open up for me, nice and slow.” He settles between Mikko’s thighs and covers his body with his, the warmth almost burning against Mikko’s oversensitive skin.

Gabe takes his wrists into his hands. “Will you be a good boy?” he asks and thumbs at the sensitive skin of Mikko’s inner wrists.

Mikko shivers and nods, his head is already swimming in that beautiful fuzzy place. Then Gabe squeezes his wrists and puts them behind his head. “Hold onto the headbord, yeah baby?”

Mikko’s breath catches in his throat and he’s left with only a helpless nod. His fingers squeeze around the iron framing until his knuckles turn white.

Gabe smiles at him and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Du är så duktig,” _You are doing so good,_ he whispers into his ear and licks the shell of it. Mikko shudders, his cock twitching in the borrowed boxers, smearing more precome into the fabric.

Gabe’s lips work on his neck, sucking a bruise in there while his hands clutch on Mikko’s hips to stop him from grinding up. “Be good, baby. What did I tell you?”

Mikko whines and closes his eyes. He just wants _something_ on his cock, alright? “You told me to be good.”

Gabe rewards him with a nip to his collarbone. “That’s right, baby,” he croons and kisses his left pec, then right. “Be good for me and I’ll let you come.” He takes his left nipple between his lips and flicks his tongue over it until it’s hard. He scrapes his teeth over the nub and sucks when Mikko moans through the sensation.

Gabe licks over his abs, taking his time tasting the naked skin. Everything slows down to him and Mikko on the bed and Mikko forces his eyes open to watch the gold of Gabe’s hair inching closer to where his cock is achingly hard and leaking.

Gabe mouths at the head of his cock through the thin fabric and Mikko would’ve probably pushed his hips up if it wasn’t for the bruising grip Gabe had on his hips. Mikko finds himself wanting for it to bruise, leave him a reminder of how perfectly Gabe took him apart.

“So good, baby,” Gabe murmurs against his skin and it sends vibrations up Mikko’s spine.

He whines at the back of his throat and bites his lower lip. “Please?”

Gabe chuckles and takes the waistband of Mikko’s boxers between his teeth like the goof he is. He drags them off and Mikko’s erection finally springs free against his belly with.

“Fuck,” Gabe breathes out. “You are so wet, just for me, aren’t you, baby?” Gabe grabs his cock and licks a tentative strip up his shaft to the head where he suckles lightly, moaning around it like it’s the best candy he’s ever had in his mouth.

Mikko squeezes his eyes shut and breathes hard, his body shaking. “Please, please, I’ve been good for you, please.”

“Ja du var duktig,” _Yes, you were good._ The deep melody sends Mikko’s mind flying, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and he gasps for air. “Så duktig för mig älskling.” _So good for me, darling._ He sucks Mikko down and takes him all the way into his throat, swallowing around his length.

Mikko’s vision goes black. He resurfaces what feels like minutes later to Gabe moaning around his cock like he can’t get enough of the taste. He keeps alternating between sucking his dick and licking at his balls, muttering soft praises in Swedish that make goosebumps rise all over Mikko’s skin. He groans and reminds himself to stay still and be good. Gabe’s eyes shoot up when he hears him and he smiles, his teeth dangerously sharp.

“You’re so hot, baby,” he murmurs and hoists himself up so he can kiss Mikko’s neck and then his lips. Mikko opens up for him as easy as ever. Their tongues slide together and Mikko moans, spreading his legs just a little bit wider and letting Gabe fuck into his mouth with his tongue.

Mikko sighs as Gabe runs his fingers through his hair and scrapes gently while his other hand runs up and down his arm, squeezing around his bicep. “Can you hold off for a little longer, baby?” Gabe asks him, perfectly calm and in control. Mikko nods because that’s about the only reply he can give.

His skin is crawling and antsy and the heat coiling in his lower belly starts getting uncomfortable.

Gabe kisses his way back down to his groin and nuzzles at the blond hair of Mikko’s happy trail. He has to be able to feel the muscles in his lower belly convulse in rhythm to his breathing and the blood pounding in him.

“Så jävla duktig för mig, älskling,” _So fucking good for me, darling,_ Gabe praises and spreads Mikko’s legs wider while simultaneously pushing them up until his hole is at full display. “Fuck,” Gabe breathes out.

A strangled moan leaves Mikko’s throat. Embarrassment colors his cheeks as he feels his hole contracting on its own, aching to be filled even after a night of fucking on every flat surface available. He feels like a slut, the humiliation burning through him better than any alcohol.

Gabe rubs a finger over his spasming hole and they both moan when Mikko’s muscles try to relax enough to accept the digit inside. He doesn’t get the finger, though. Instead Gabe replaces it with his tongue and Mikko feels like all the air was punched out of his lungs.

“Please, please, oh god,” Mikko’s back arch off the bed in an attempt to meet Gabe’s tongue that’s slowly fucking into his hole.

Gabe sucks on the sensitive flesh and nips gently along it. “Fuck, you’re still loose from last night. I bet I could go right in, no need to stretch you.”

Mikko’s gut is flooded with white heat and he throws his head back. “Please, just do it, fuck me.”

“Is that what you want, baby? My cock in you, filling you up, stretching you until you feel like you’re choking on it?” Gabe purrs and mouths at the skin just under his ear.

Mikko’s cock twitches at the words. He thrusts up, making abortive little movements to get some kind of friction. He’s been nearing the edge for what felt like hours now and the need to come is almost overwhelming, clouding his mind.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good,” Gabe croons and takes him in his mouth again. It’s like the worst torture, his mouth is wet and hot and almost plush. It surrounds Mikko everywhere, but it’s not nearly enough to send him over the edge. And when he feels like he’s finally going to come, Gabe pulls away and squeezes the base of his cock to stop him from doing so.

“Gabe, please,” he can hardly recognize his own voice. It’s thick and raspy and he realizes there are tears on his face. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby,” he kisses the insides of his thighs and nips at the skin there. He slips one finger inside Mikko’s hole and quickly finds his prostate. “I want you to come for me, baby, okay?”

Mikko nods eagerly and more tears fall down his cheeks. His whole body is tense and thrumming with the need to come and he can barely see through his clumped eyelashes and tears. He thinks he’s begging the whole time but all he can concentrate on is Gabe. His deep, soothing voice and his goddamn lips and fingers all over his body.

Gabe presses against his prostate and Mikko feels precome drooling from his cock and thinks hysterically that he won’t even come today, that Gabe will just milk him dry and leave him hanging without an orgasm.

“So fucking beautiful, baby. So pretty for me, so easy,” Gabe praises and then goes down on him and really sucks. Mikko’s throat is already sore when he shouts. “That’s it, baby, come for me,” Gabe pushes harder against his prostate and takes him back into his throat, swallowing around him, tight and perfect.

And then everything goes white hot and Mikko is gone.

When he resurfaces Gabe is straddling his hips and jerking himself off, movements fast and angry and almost painful. He comes on Mikko’s belly, adding to the cooling mess already there.

He collapses down on Mikko with a soft “Fuck” and blankets his body with his own. It takes him a while to get back to himself and Mikko realizes he’s still holding onto the headbord like Gabe told him to. His muscles are stiff and he’s not sure he can ever let go.

“This was something,” Gabe giggles into his neck and Mikko is right there with him, laughing quietly at the absurdity of what they just did.

“Yeah.”

Gabe slowly rolls away and gently touches Mikko’s arms, easing them down and massaging them while doing so. “You did so good,” he kisses each wrist and then Mikko’s mouth, pliant and waiting.

“How did you even know?”

Gabe stops for a while and searches his eyes. “The Swedish thing?”

Mikko nods.

“You were really drunk last night. Asked me bunch of times to speak Swedish because it turned you on. So I figured, you know, that I could incorporate it into our regular bedroom life?”

Mikko goes red with the humiliation and hides his face into the pillow. “Was I that drunk?”

Gabe laughs and kisses his shoulder. “You were fucking wasted.” He wipes at Mikko’s stomach with some tissues before he pulls the blanket over them and snuggles close. “Did I cross a line there?”

Gabe is so sincere with his concerns, like he always is. Mikko looks up and meets his eyes. Gabe has always looked out for him and that will never change. “No,” he says. “It was really good.”

They lay in the silence for a while, Gabe absently playing with Mikko’s hair while Mikko dozes off on his chest, tired from the previous night and their morning fooling around.

“Next time you want something in bed, just ask, okay?” Gabe pets his neck as he speaks. “There’s no judgement here. I promise I’d never laugh at you for bringing up anything new. Deal?”

Mikko steals a kiss from Gabe and smiles. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Swedish is hot. You can yell at me [here](https://tangercookie.tumblr.com/).  
> Kudos and comments are very welcome <3


End file.
